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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26462704">better.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Haikyuu - Freeform, M/M, a bit scared to post this, check up on ur friends!!!!!!, i havent even proofread this, ily ur worth it, might add more tags when its not 12:43am, national suicide prevention month, no beta we die like daichi, no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:01:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,818</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26462704</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Miya Atsumu is fine. </p><p>He's fine, because the teasing and jokes are just that: JOKES. It's fine, he isn't hurt.<br/>They aren't serious. </p><p>// TW FOR TALKING ABOUT SUICIDE (NOTHING EXPLICIT)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, can be romantic or platonic depending on how you want to see it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>210</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>better.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>BEFORE YOU BEGIN, PLEASE KNOW:<br/>THIS IS FOR SUICIDE PREVENTION MONTH THEREFORE IT WILL TALK ABOUT SUICIDE.<br/>NOTHING IS EXPLICIT, BUT PLEASE BE CAREFUL</p><p>i was rlly nervous to write n post this but i finished it anyway and thought i may as well<br/>please note: i have not included an obvious romantic relationship between any characters (however you can leave their romantic relationships up to your imagination) because i do NOT wish to romanticise suicide. </p><p>suicide is not something 'cute' or 'quirky' in any way. it is a real and scary thing. do not joke about it. </p><p>this fic is purely for suicide prevention month and to spread awareness about it; it is in no way for personal gain and is not making a joke of suicide.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If there was a list of the nicest people in the world, Atsumu would not be on it, that's for sure.<br/>
He isn't the nicest person in the world, he was far from it. He teased other people, other people teased him back.<br/>
The problems started when he began thinking that it wasn't teasing anymore. </p><p>Atsumu was known to be someone who insulted you in a playful, somewhat friendly kinda way; he was known to say "aww, thanks!" to people telling him he had a terrible personality. Atsumu was an asshole, a stuck-up prick who only wanted to play volleyball. He seemed like the type of person who would grow up to become famous, only to let that fame go to his head. Atsumu was a selfish bastard.<br/>
That's what they think. That's what everybody think. And it was everyone. Every single person who met Miya Atsumu all thought the same thing about him.<br/>
They were all wrong.<br/>
Or, perhaps, they were right at the start... He definitely was annoying in his first year of highschool, and he seemed annoying this year, his second year of highschool, so... everyone must be right.<br/>
Then again, nobody (not even Atsumu's twin brother, Osamu) was close enough to Atsumu to tell. Nobody was close enough to see the real, genuine Atsumu. Nobody was close enough to see the signs.</p><p>Atsumu was completely fine with the endless teasing and banter he got from everybody. It was normal to him. An every day occurrence. He'd wake up in the morning and Osamu would yell at him about how his 'piss-coloured' hair looked stupid, about how he snores too loud, about how slow he is in the morning.<br/>
He'd get to school and Suna would glare at him and tell him that he was creepy. Kita would fake a smile in his direction upon Atsumu bragging about a particularly good set or serve. Aran would just roll his eyes. </p><p>He'd start classes and the teacher would get up him for being lazy. Girls would talk to him and say he's cute in one sentance and then that he's a player in the other. Boys would punch him in the shoulder and tell him that he's too loud mid-conversation. </p><p>And throughout it all, Atsumu would laugh, agree, and continue doing whatever he was doing. </p><p>He doesn't really know how it happened; maybe it was when he was telling a story and someone said, "God, do you ever shut up?", and then laughed about it. Maybe it was when Kita silently frowned at him and looked him up and down after Atsumu bragged about a serve.<br/>
It doesn't really matter when, honestly, it just matters that it happened and he's different now.<br/>
Sometime along the line, Atsumu got this little voice inside his head telling him that he needed to stop. Stop everything. Stop doing what people didn't like. </p><p>He did. </p><p>After a great serve or set, he'd cheer at himself, then go to praise himself before noticing his teammates turning away from him with sour expressions.<br/>
'Too annoying; don't say anything.'<br/>
He doesn't. </p><p>He goes to talk to a girl in his class; not in a romantic, flirty way, but just because he's a social person and wants to talk to her, but he sees her and her friends pointing at him and frowning.<br/>
'Stop being a player; don't go over there.'<br/>
He doesn't. </p><p>The next time he goes to tell a story from a few years ago when him and Osamu went on a summer vacation to Tokyo, someone tells him to shut his loud-mouth up.<br/>
'Just be quiet; don't finish the story.'<br/>
He doesn't. He shuts his mouth and the conversation goes on-- well, it more moves on without him. </p><p>It begins to get to the point where Atsumu has started not doing anything at all. Before, he'd start talking or his victory speech, whereas now, he'd just keep his mouth shut or clench his fist as a silent 'congratulations' to himself. </p><p>It seems to make everyone else happy. The volleyball team is filled with more smiles, more easy laughter, more... conversations, since Atsumu stopped interacting with them. He nods and smiles occasionally, but doesn't speak other than to call out 'nice serve' or 'mine'. He is silent on the court. It's a bad look on Atsumu, but nobody else seems to notice. </p><p>Classroom talk seems to be more making fun of Atsumu than anything.<br/>
It's just a joke and he should know that, he's sure that he knows that, but it hurts him, somehow, to hear the class tease his hair and his grades and his skills.<br/>
His hair, which he hasn't re-bleached in over a month, the roots growing out and mixing with the blonde.<br/>
His grades, which have started slipping since he started withdrawing.<br/>
His skills, not only in volleyball, but in everything, which are going down. </p><p>Eventually, the classroom proves too much for Atsumu and he leaves. Halfway through lunch, he leaves his bento box and walks outside. Past that same group of girls who still point at him everytime he walks by them. He walks outside, behind the school, sits next to the dumpster and stays there until break is over.<br/>
Atsumu shuts his eyes. The wild ruffles his hair, kisses his cheeks, messes up his uniform. Makes his eyelashes flutter. Makes his eyes watery. </p><p>Break is over too soon and he rushes to his classroom to grab his box and go to his locker.<br/>
He walks in the classroom with a smile and strides to his desk, reaching for his lunch, when suddenly--</p><p>"You eat a lot, don't you, Atsumu?" </p><p>Atsumu freezes. </p><p>"Yeah, I suppose so." Comes the easy answer.</p><p>The boys laugh and Atsumu grabs his box, chuckling along with them before going to his locker. </p><p>The next morning, he 'forgets' his breakfast and eats his usual lunch outside, where nobody can judge him. </p><p>He was king of the school.<br/>
He was the legendary 'best setter in highschool'.<br/>
The unshakable, annoying Miya Atsumu.<br/>
He'd been dethroned. </p><p>You see, everybody respected him, in a way; they used to see him as the best, the star of the school, one of the two famous Miya twins. But knock him down a few pegs and they realised, huh, he's just like everybody else; weak. </p><p>And so the rumours started.<br/>
Rumours spread like wildfire across the campus. It started with one telling two, two telling five, five starting a chat with eleven, eleven going to their clubs and telling thirty, thirty laughing about it with their friends and spreading it to fifty five, and eventually the whole school knew these rumours. Almost. Atsumu didn't know. </p><p>How could he? He no longer spent enough time in the actual school building to know. Mornings he barely got here on time for volleyball, barely on time for class, jumping up and out the door to the dumpster for both breaks and leaving school for practice or practice for home as fast as he could. </p><p>Point is, these rumours spread and suddenly every stare was on faded blonde hair. Atsumu felt the eyes. Felt their disgust, felt their stares burn through him like a hot knife through butter. </p><p>He withdrew himself some more at that voice's will. </p><p> </p><p>All Japan Youth Camp was going to be good, he swears it. It was going to be good, because Atsumu doesn't know what he'll do if it's not.<br/>
How did he even get in? His skills dropped. He wasn't at the top of his game anymore. They'd lost the last match at the interhigh because of him and his stupid sets. </p><p>Whatever. He breathed. He focused on packing his suitcase and went into the bathroom. All Japan camp meant he had to look good. His hair was back to black, a bit too long and very, very faded. </p><p>Atsumu arrived the next morning feeling less than refreshed despite his hair being the right length and fully blonde again. His suitcase only held clothes, a charger and toiletries for the week. Last year he'd brought movies and snacks, this year, he knows he'll be annoying putting the films on. </p><p>Sakusa is the first person he sees. Sakusa glares at him for a moment, and Atsumu waves, a smile on his face. It was an overly forced and fake one, but who was he to care? </p><p>Sakusa's eyes went a little wider for a split second before he schooled his expression again. </p><p>"You're different." </p><p>Atsumu froze in place, smile slipping off his face.<br/>
He wished Sakusa had said something like, 'you've changed'; that would have been a good thing. Changing is good (right?) and if Sakusa had said that, everything would have been fine.<br/>
But different... 'different' and 'changed' are two very, very different words. Different was bad. Different was something that people didn't like. </p><p>"Not really, Omi-kun," Atsumu smiles again, walking past Sakusa and into the building. </p><p> </p><p>All Japan camp sucked.<br/>
Even though nobody from Inarizaki was there, it still felt like all eyes were on him, that everybody thought he was different, just like Sakusa had. And that fucking first year setter from Karasuno... who even is Karasuno? Who is 'rising star' Kageyama Tobio? Why did he crush all of Atsumu's talent beneath his pinky finger? </p><p>All Japan camp sucked and Atsumu was at his breaking point. </p><p>"Miya." </p><p>Atsumu turned around.<br/>
He, or rather, they were waiting outside. They being Atsumu and Sakusa.<br/>
Outside was were the buses were running. Everybody was waiting to be picked up and either driven home or to the train station. Sakusa was already from Tokyo, so he was walking home; not that he'd get in public transport anyway. </p><p>"What is it?" Atsumu asked.<br/>
Sakusa held up his phone and flipped open the cover; he pressed four keys and handed it to Atsumu.<br/>
"Your number."</p><p>Atsumu stared blankly at the phone for a second. Sakusa Kiyoomi asked for his number. Sakusa. Asked for Atsumu's number.<br/>
Why? Someone like him? Like Atsumu? A useless, loud, annoying person like him?<br/>
Atsumu reached out and grabbed the phone with shaky hands.<br/>
He typed in his phone number and his name into a contact and sent himself a message to double check that he'd typed it right, then flipped it shut and handed it back to Sakusa.</p><p>"Thanks," Atsumu blurted. He surprised himself. Sakusa raised an eyebrow.<br/>
"For what?"<br/>
"Asking."<br/>
Atsumu smiled, the first genuine smile he'd given in months.<br/>
Sakusa moved his gaze to the ground.<br/>
"I'll message you." </p><p>Buses began to arrive steadily, parking themselves in front of the gym. Atsumu waved goodbye at Sakusa, who returned the gesture with a small flick of his incredibly bendy wrists. He walked onto the bus, sat down at a seat in the back, and prepared himself for home. </p><p>Atsumu was sad.<br/>
Home didn't feel like home anymore. </p><p>A ping from his phone alerted him, and he picked it up to check what the message was. </p><p>OSAMU </p><p>didnt miss your ugly face<br/>
but mum says i have to<br/>
pick you up from the station</p><p>It was a joke. All a joke and he knew and he shouldn't feel sad about this, he shouldn't feel sad about banter that has happened between him and his brother for years. But he is. He absolutely is. Because even though it's a joke, it hurts. </p><p> </p><p>Things are bad. Things are very bad. Nothing is working.<br/>
They lost to Karasuno and that bastard Kageyama. Their third years retired with annoyed glares at Atsumu who fucked up their last game as highschool students. People stared at him at school even more now. Osamu's teasing got worse and he couldn't handle it, he couldn't handle anything, it was all too much and it sucked and his grades were slipping, his parents had literally told him that he needs to be more serious in school 'just like Osamu', because Osamu's the golden child and everything was going downhill and--</p><p>And there was a bridge not too far from his house. </p><p>It was too much. Way too much. Too overwhelming. He was fucking sixteen. </p><p>Atsumu put on loose pants and a sweatshirt along with some random shoes from his closet. He ran his fingers through his hair, left his phone on his nightstand and ignored his parent's calls for dinner.<br/>
He stormed straight downstairs, muttering a 'I'm not hungry' which got a 'you should be more respectful towards your parents, like Osamu' in reponse. He shut the door and walked to the corner of the street, not really hearing anything, barely seeing anything, definitely not thinking a thing. </p><p>He took off towards the bridge; it was about a thirty minute walk from his house. He could make it there easy. Atsumu used to play there every afternoon with Osamu. </p><p>The bridge was made out of stone brick. He'd sat on the stone railing many times with Osamu before; they'd tease each other about how the other was too scared to jump off.<br/>
He was going to do it. Who's scared now, huh?</p><p>Atsumu got to the bridge out of breath. It was half past ten in the evening; no one was out. There were no houses along this part of town; just a few small shops that had shut for the night. </p><p>Atsumu placed his hands on the stone before him. The stone was gritty, and rubbed against his skin; the little stones poked against the flesh of his palm. The wind was brushing past, pushing his hair out of his face, ruining his clothes and biting into his skin. </p><p>He pushed himself up so that he was standing on top of the stone edge of the bridge. He toom a deep breath and looked at the ground below. The bridge was over a little ravine; deep  and cold and far enough down that this'd probably work. </p><p>Atsumu sucked in a breath and restabled himself on the edge. </p><p>"Hey." </p><p>Atsumu turned his head sharply, then almost fell backwards at the presence next to him. How did he not notice another person get up here with him? It's not like Sakusa is short, either.<br/>
Atsumu swallowed. </p><p>"What are you doing here?" He asked, blinking away invisible tears. </p><p>"Keeping you company." </p><p>Atsumu sucked in a breath. "Why?" </p><p>Sakusa turned to look at him. His curls ruffled in the wind, gently framing his face; his eyes bore into Atsumu's. </p><p>"It's less scary when you're not alone." </p><p>Atsumu blanks. It's all he can do to just... stare. He does. He stares at Sakusa, stares at the spiker in shock. He doesn't notice when he starts crying, only notices when Sakusa gives him a small smile and delicately grabs his wrist. </p><p>Atsumu uses his free hand to wipe at his eyes, uses it to push his hair out of his face, and keeps crying. </p><p>"I'm sorry," He forces out. </p><p>"You have nothing to be sorry for, Atsumu," Sakusa replies easily. "It's not your fault; this is the product of everybody else's actions. Don't blame youself." </p><p> </p><p>Atsumu cries harder. "But they didn't put me up here." </p><p>"They did. Their words did. Maybe their actions, too. But they aren't going to get you down; only you can do that."</p><p>"This is bad, isn't it--"</p><p>"It isn't. It's not a bad thing to feel sad."</p><p>Atsumu raises his gaze to Sakusa's. He pauses. "Can you help me?" </p><p>"Of course."</p><p>And then they're stepping down, and, strangely enough, Sakusa is hugging him and Atsumu is still crying.</p><p>Crying is a bit of an umbrella term; he's crying, but this kind of crying is him releasing months of pent up sadness and months of unspoken issues. It's months of feeling useless in volleyball, months of being quiet, months of getting more and more scared of the stares. Months of Atsumu bottling things up. </p><p>And when it's finally over, Sakusa steps back and stares Atsumu straight in the eyes.<br/>
"Message me." </p><p>'About anything' are the words that go unspoken.<br/>
'About anything, at any time; whenever you need, whenever you want.'</p><p>"I will," Atsumu smiles warmly, a genuine, real smile and he... he feels better. Everything isn't better, but he feels better. </p><p>It starts to rain, and Sakusa waves goodbye as he pulls his jacket over his head to run home. Atsumu takes one last look out at the sky over the bridge, sees the stars twinkling in the sky, the moon, full and bright and shining streams of light onto the stone bridge. </p><p>Atsumu turns and runs back home. </p><p> </p><p>There's a bike outside his house that wasn't there before. The lights are still on inside. The door is unlocked. </p><p>Atsumu grabs the door handle and twists it open, pushing the door open silently as he goes through his apology in his head one more time. </p><p>The door shuts with a very quiet click, and he takes his shoes off, then his wet socks; he's dripping wet at almost one am in the morning. Not a good look. In a way, it almost doesn't matter, because Atsumu feels lighter. </p><p>He walks into the next room, the dining room, and freezes in his tracks. Nobody has noticed him come in. </p><p>There, at the table, are a handful of the volleyball club. At one am in the morning. Osamu is sitting with his elbows on the table, head in his hands, fingers gripping his hair tighter than Atsumu ever had during one of their fights. His shoulders are shaking.<br/>
Suna sits next to him, a hand on his back, gaze down. Aran and Kita sit across from them, staring at Osamu with a sad look in their eyes. </p><p>Atsumu feels dread weigh on his chest. Just when he was feeling better. Just when he was feeling better after all those months, and now he's seeing how little everyone cares for him. </p><p>Osamu is upset? Everyone's over at ass o'clock in the morning.<br/>
Atsumu is upset? Oh well. Serves him right. </p><p>Atsumu notices that everyone at the table is now looking at him. Aran and Kita have watery eyes, Suna looks shocked for once in his life, and Osamu is peeking over his shoulder.<br/>
Osamu's eyes are red and puffy from constant tears. </p><p>Atsumu looks away from the table and goes to walk past as quickly as he can. He's stopped by the scraping of a chair against wood, by a hand grabbing his wrist tightly. </p><p>"Let go," Atsumu says. Osamu doesn't listen. He opens his mouth, probably to yell at Atsumu for interupting his moment-- </p><p>A sob is all that escapes Osamu's mouth. Atsumu's eyes go wide and he immediately goes into protective-brother mode, wondering what the hell happened to make his brother cry.<br/>
The next instant, arms wrap around him and a head drops to his shoulder. Hands curl themselves tightly in the all-too-wet fabric of the sweatshirt. Grey hair tickles Atsumu's nose, and he realises that Osamu is hugging him. </p><p>"What--"</p><p>"I'm sorry." </p><p>Atsumu falls quiet. This time, he's quiet because he has no words to say.<br/>
The apology is choked out. </p><p>"I should've-- I noticed, I fucking noticed and I didn't do anything, I'm so--"</p><p>Osamu is cut off again by his own crying. </p><p>"I saw you-- at the bridge just now and I thought-- I thought you were gonna jump but I was too scared to talk to you and that's such a fucking lame excuse, I should've, but I didn't because I thought I'd make it worse." </p><p>Atsumu listens. </p><p>"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should've asked you sooner, about how you-- how you were going, but I didn't." </p><p>Atsumu's own tears start to fall and he brings his arms up to wrap around Osamu. He hugs him tight, wobbles, and the next moment they're on the floor, crying and clinging to each other like they'll die if they let go. </p><p>Atsumu feels someone else's arm around him and he opens his eyes, only to see Kita hugging both him and Osamu, head down. Aran joins on the other side, then Suna, and they all crush him in a hug that's filled with tears and sobs. </p><p>"I noticed, too," Kita admits through soft tears. "I should've asked." </p><p>They hear the front door open, and everyone releases a bit and turns to look. The Miya's enter the house with two wet umbrellas and sloppily dressed clothes. Their mother looks disheveled, their father not much better. When they see the ball of hugs and tears on the floor, they freeze. </p><p>Kita, Suna, Aran and Osamu all stand up and move back, leaving just Atsumu on the floor by himself. Their mother gasps, their father's eyes go wide, and an apology is on Atsumu's lips but dies the instance his parents run at him and skid across the floor to hug him. </p><p>He learns that Osamu had followed Atsumu to the bridge to see where he was going, only to find Atsumu standing on the stone railing; he'd wanted to tell him to get down but was afraid of making it worse so he ran home to tell their parents. It was a shit move and Osamu couldn't believe he'd left his twin brother by himself at a bridge, but he was too distraught to think.<br/>
Osamu had called Suna to tell him what happened. Suna had texted Aran and Kita and they'd all made their way to the Miya residence while Osamu and Atsumu's parents drove to the bridge. </p><p>His parenst and his friends (his friends, he realises, because they care for him despite his personality) apologize one hundred times over and take turns hugging him. Atsumu spills everything; everything that's been bugging him, everything that he's been thinking about.<br/>
And they help. </p><p>They listen. They help. By the end of the night, he actually smiles as they walk out the door. He feels lighter, safer, overall just... better. There's a ton of things he needs to think about but at this moment, those things don't matter. </p><p>Atsumu finds himself reaching for his phone and sending a quick message to Sakusa, telling him about what happened after they'd left the bridge. </p><p> </p><p>Atsumu awakens the next morning with sunlight streaming in through his window. He's tried, of course, after staying up so late and after all the crying, but he sits up anyway.<br/>
There's a knock on his door. Osamu opens the door and pops his head in. </p><p>"Hey, 'Tsumu, wake-- oh. Get downstairs, mum's made pancakes and we have school." </p><p>Osamu leaves.</p><p>Atsumu blinks twice and smiles softly at the change. He hears his phone buzz and stretches for it, flips it open and reads the message. </p><p>OMI-OMI</p><p>glad to hear that. its good that<br/>
you talked to them, atsumu. </p><p>how are you feeling?</p><p>Atsumu looks out the window, closes his eyes and feels the warmth on his skin. </p><p>OMI-OMI</p><p>glad to hear that. its good that<br/>
you talked to them, atsumu. </p><p>how are you feeling? </p><p>&gt;&gt; better.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading. </p><p>PLEASE CHECK UP ON YOUR FRIENDS. ASK THEM HOW THEY ARE GOING.<br/>ACTUAL SUICIDE/ATTEMPTED SUICIDE STORIES DO NOT END HAPPILY LIKE THIS ONE.<br/>KNOW THE SUICIDE HELP LINE. </p><p>Remember that not all signs of a suicidal person are obvious. Look out for your peers and keep them safe. </p><p>If you feel suicidal, contact the suicide help line.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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